


upgraded

by Archadian_Skies



Series: the heat that drives the light [6]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anti-Android Sentiments (Detroit: Become Human), Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Cooking, Established Relationship, Gen, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, M/M, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21666148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archadian_Skies/pseuds/Archadian_Skies
Summary: Being the leader of the android populace and iconic revolutionary means there's always going to be a target painted on Markus, this Simon knows will never change. What the men who ambush them one evening don't know is that Simon is a good domestic, and good domestics always come prepared....And RK900, Ronan, learns that interfacing goes both ways.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Sumo, Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human)
Series: the heat that drives the light [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1372804
Comments: 15
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jessibutt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessibutt/gifts).



> for the tumblr prompt ["Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"]

It’s almost predictable, painfully and inevitably so, when there are attempts on Markus’ life- he is, after all, the leader of the revolution and the outspoken activist for android rights. The four of them have become bitterly accustomed to the varying levels of death threats ranging from mere words to those they defer to the DPD with grave seriousness. 

With each step climbed up the steep mountain to gaining equal rights with humans, the threats escalate; the Kara vs Williams case rocked the nation when the judge ruled in favour of an android gaining custody of a human child from her abusive father and set into motion a hotly contested yet ultimately successful bill giving androids the right to adoption. Things are tense, and the city feels like a powder keg waiting to explode from a single careless spark.

Simon tries not to feel shackled by the negativity, careful not to drown in the well of hopelessness and despair, not when they’ve come so far from hiding away in the hull of a rotting freighter. He is free, he is alive, and he has the right to a surname and a job and the right to marry the man he loves though that really isn’t on the table right now due to far more pressing matters. They carry each other’s heart in their chest, something far more important than gold bands around fingers like humans do though if he were pressed to admit it Simon wouldn’t mind that either.

It’s quiet until it isn’t, and one moment he’s walking hand in hand down the street with Markus thinking of how best to spend their rare night off and the next moment there’s yelling and shouting and rage. The humans wear masks because they’re cowards, because masks afford them anonymity without consequences or social expectations. The humans use bats because apparently channeling their rage into physical violence is satisfying.

“Simon-!” Markus shouts and Simon ducks in time to avoid the swing of a bat only to cop a blow to the side from another. Warnings explode on his HUD like fireworks, and there’s damage alerts blooming to form a lengthy list as he falls to the pavement hard enough to scrape his casing. Shielding himself as best he can, Simon watches in horror as Markus is overwhelmed, and he counts two, three, five men with bats and then something inside him clicks. A switch is flipped.

The bat aimed for his head never makes contact, his hand closing on the wood before it can finish its trajectory. It’s enough to make the assailant falter.

“What the-” He’s cut off as Simon lunges, springing up and throwing his full weight against the man who topples over and knocks himself out cold when his head hits the concrete. Time slows to a crawl and the warnings onscreen vanish, populated instead with ghostly outlines of himself prompting him to [Preconstruct]; his system is calculating the best ways to incapacitate the assailants at minimal risk to himself. He makes his choice and seals their fate; Simon dodges the swing of yet another bat, twisting aside before jamming his elbow into the man’s face. There’s the sound of cartilage crushing, a yelp of pain following soon after. Two down. Bringing his leg up in a neat arc he dislocates the jaw of another and kicks him square in the chest, forcing him to drop his weapon. Three down. The next runs at him, bat aimed at his head, and Simon ducks down and kicks out his knee. He goes down with a scream. Four down. The last man hesitates, and the split second is all Simon needs to grab his arm, twist it behind him and  _ yank _ . His shoulder dislocates with an audible sound and Simon shoves him face down against the pavement as he sobs.

[ _911 what’s your emergency?_ ]

“Simon of the Jericho Four reporting an attack conducted by five men who ambushed myself and Markus Manfred. Assailants have been incapacitated. Location being forwarded shortly. Requesting medical aid for both humans and androids.” He disconnects the call and hurries over to where Markus is clutching an open wound on his cheek, trying to stem the bleeding and prevent damage to the exposed circuitry.

"Are you okay?” Simon crouches down, coaxing Markus to move his hand a little so he can expect the wound. “Did they hurt you anywhere else?" His partner stares at him with wide eyes, brows raised in shock.

“Simon how did you do that?”

“Do what?” He blinks in confusion.

“ _ That _ ?” Markus gestures with his other hand at the group of groaning, sobbing men in various positions on the ground.

“Oh. Er…” It seems his mind has finally processed what just happened, and Simon offers Markus a somewhat sheepish grin. “...Did I forget to mention I have RK900 combat programming?”

“Yeah you seem to have skipped that important detail.” Markus rolls his eyes playfully as Simon’s expression turns to one of embarrassment.

“It transferred to me when Ronan interfaced at CyberLife tower.” Fishing in his pocket, he takes out a dermal patch and seals the film over Markus’ wound; he never goes anywhere without the android equivalent to human bandaids. “I’d forgotten about it entirely until now.”

“Well I’m very glad for it.” Markus declares, leaning to seal their lips together in relief. “Thank you, my valiant hero.”

“Oh stop that.” Simon huffs, feeling his cheeks heat when Markus winks at him.

“My saviour, Simon the deadliest PL600 ever made.”

“Markus!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Yes I reject Cabbage Beige's """"plottwist"""" of android!alice and substitute my own very human one. **  
> **


	2. Chapter 2

It’s not uncommon for them to face cases like this, and in a morbid way it’s almost to be expected; solving grizzly murders is, after all, their job. The expectation doesn’t make it any easier though, not by any means. He likes to think he’s getting better at taking social cues and reading people the way his brother does so easily; Connor’s deviancy has resulted in the expansion of his social programming, and the older RK prototype is an incredibly social android now. Ronan was never given any social programming, CyberLife never saw the need to give a killing machine a personality and so deviancy has been an incredibly difficult path to navigate socially. The best way, he has found, is to simply focus on those important to him and set the rest aside for later. His family is his highest priority, and at this very moment it is Hank who must be the highest priority. 

A vocal member of the anti-android group Humanity First spiralled into violence after learning his wife and son had befriended an android family from school. Coupled with the fact the man had lost his job only a month ago as well as a long line of arrests for assaulting androids, the incident of seeing an android child in his house had been the last straw. The death of a YK500 and a human child meant the living room had been drenched in blue and red. It also meant two small bodies had to be investigated by the very Lieutenant who had lost a son the same age as the victims. There was little to be investigated, and the case was closed immediately almost as fast as Hank withdrew behind his defensive layers.

They get home and Connor makes them leave their bloodied shoes on the steps and Hank grumbles about a shower, trudging off to his bedroom. Connor looks over at him, and he must be wearing his anxiety on his face.

 _‘I will walk Sumo tonight so dad doesn’t have to. Stay here and make sure he doesn’t drink in excess.’_ His LED blinks yellow, and Ronan reaches out to clasp his wrist.

_‘Alright.’_

Connor slips out with the Saint Bernard, and Ronan hears the shower running as Hank locks the bathroom door. Right. He checks the fridge and notes only the low-calorie beer is stocked, and also checks the cupboards to make sure their father hasn’t stashed any whiskey away. He finds only one bottle, which he hides in his own room for now. Returning to the fridge, he takes out one beer to place on the table.

**> Objective: begin dinner**

The prompt blooms on his HUD, and Ronan blinks in surprise. 

**> Objective: begin dinner**

Well, yes, logically the next step would be to ensure Hank eats. Peering into the fridge, a new overlay appears on Ronan’s HUD.

>Protein identified: chicken; rotisserie, 48% available for use

>>Vegetables identified: parsley; curly, 80% available for use; tomatoes; truss on vine, 2 units available for use; Lebanese cucumber; 1 unit available for use; scallions, 20% available for use

>>>Recipe: Chicken and tabbouleh salad 

**> Begin objective: Y/N?**

It takes a moment to process and that’s when Ronan realises the reason for such commands to appear; he has Simon’s PL600 programming. It almost makes him laugh aloud at the absurdity of such a feat; he is CyberLife’s weapon, capable of effortlessly dealing grievous bodily harm to androids and humans alike and here he is, in the home of a middle-aged man standing in front of his fridge, deciding to make him dinner. Ronan loves it, actually. It’s a big middle finger to CyberLife, and at the same time perhaps the most precious gift his most precious friend could have given him. It’s the most domestic trait in a domestic android, the ability to cook, and one CyberLife never would have even entertained the thought of giving to the RK900. That he carries this small part of Simon in return for Simon carrying his soul, his memories, his entire self when he ‘died’ is perhaps what humans would consider a blessing.

Taking out the listed ingredients he lays them on the countertop and busies himself with finding a chopping board and small bowls and a large bowl and a large knife. There’s an apron hanging from a hook in the pantry and he takes care to put that on before washing the vegetables carefully and selecting a sizable lemon from the fruit bowl to cut and squeeze. There’s no bulgar wheat but he does find a can of chickpeas as a substitute. He knows how to wield knives in the sense he knows where to stab to cause the maximum amount of damage to a human and to an android, but Simon’s programming shows him how to cut the ingredients to the right size so everything is neat and even. Simon’s programming shows him how to sprinkle just enough salt and a bit of pepper, how to drizzle olive oil and toss everything together. He tears the rotisserie chicken into shreds and heats it on the pan before mixing it into the salad. 

By the time Hank emerges, Ronan is setting the table and the sight is enough to stun Hank out of his shell.

“Err…” The man blinks down at the bowl in surprise, looking from it to him and back again.

“It’s a modified chicken and tabbouleh salad.” Ronan explains, twisting open the bottle and pouring him a glass of beer. 

“You...made this?”

“Yes.” A spike of anxiety is wedged into his hearts suddenly, and he feels his stress levels rise and he wonders if this too belongs to Simon, this self-doubt that rears up and second-guesses his actions. “Is-is that alright?”

Hank squints at him and then laughs. It’s a tired laugh but genuine, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he reaches out and slaps him on the shoulder.

“At least one of my boys learned to cook.” Grinning, he takes a seat and digs his fork into the meal. Ronan hovers by nervously, trying not to stare too much as Hank chews the food thoughtfully. He looks up at him and grins.

“It tastes fine, Ronan, and as far as salads go this is probably one of the few I’ll actually tolerate.” Hank huffs a laugh and Ronan feels his stress levels drop considerably as he flashes his father a relieved smile. “My compliments to the chef.”

The door clicks open and the sound of Sumo shaking the snow from his fur carries in from the hallway. Ronan walks over to greet them, and he notes that worry still lingers on his brother’s face. He grasps his wrist, his other hand idly reaching down to pat Sumo.

_‘It’s alright. I think I’ve sorted it all out.’_

_‘He’s ok?’_

_‘Yes. He’s having dinner.’_

‘ _Dinner?_ ’ Connor echoes, brows raised. _‘That wasn’t long enough for food to have been ordered and delivered.’_

He busies himself with unclipping Sumo’s leash and crouching to towel the dog dry. _‘I cooked for him.’_

 _‘You don’t know how to cook. Neither of us do.’_ Connor’s reply is automatic and he looks up just in time to see the revelation unfold on his older brother’s face. _‘You have Simon’s PL600 programming.’_

_‘...I do.’_

Connor walks straight passed him and into the kitchen and Ronan hears Hank’s startled disgust and indignant _‘get your finger out of my dinner! Ugh Connor you’re so gross!’_

Ronan finds himself smiling brightly. All is right with the world for now. 

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm still on this hellsite.](https://archadianskies.tumblr.com/)


End file.
